


Nothing Real in This Life

by hippydeath



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: X-wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole
Genre: Alley Sex, Biting, Blood, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Jealousy, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, That's Not How The Force Works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-27 04:39:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6269995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hippydeath/pseuds/hippydeath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wedge had left the celebrations with the intention of finding somewhere to blow off some steam. He hadn't been too bothered how he managed that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn't what I planned to post this evening. This has been lurking in my googledocs for weeks after someone on tumblr commented on a post about characters being bloody and breathless about how Luke and Wedge deserved a chance as well as whatever characters I was writing at the time.
> 
> Set immediately post-The Krytos Trap, following the shindig in which Wedge gets jealous over Luke making new friends and everyone hands in their resignations.  
> I've also been re-reading the X-Wing comics, in which Wedge is pretty angry a lot of the time.
> 
> Basically, this is all Corran Horn's fault.

"Ow." His everything hurts, that's the first thing he realises when his breathing starts to slow and the buzz from the fight starts to wear off. He's not ashamed to admit the giggle that passes his lips, bloody adrenaline rush, as he realises everything hurts and his hands and face are sticky with blood, a good portion of it probably his.

  
He tongues at his lip, split and sore, the tooth chipped and slightly loose, and he looks around, hauling in air in ragged gasps. Luke's a few metres away up the alley, bent over and looking at something on the ground, and the light isn't great but Wedge can see a tear in his shirt and more blood.

The bodies on the floor aren't interesting now they're not moving. He probably ought to call it in, get someone to come and pick them up; his are probably still alive and might know something useful, but, he can't find the enthusiasm. Duty be damned.

"Are you alright?" Luke calls over.

Wedge feels that spike of not quite jealousy from earlier again, wondering why he bothers. "Fine," he replies, still trying to catch his breath. He needs to spend more time in the gym, he thinks. An alleyway brawl shouldn't take this much out of him.

“You’re bleeding,” he reacts to Luke reaching out to touch his arm with a punch to the younger man’s gut that doesn’t land, thankfully, and he realises that he’s still far too on edge. Luke doesn’t give up though, and comes at him again, apparently less concerned with his own bleeding injuries than he is about Wedge’s.

The only explanation he has is that Luke lets him push him away, back against one of the alley walls. There's no way he couldn't have seen the blow coming, but he let's Wedge barrel him against the filthy duracrete with only a rough exhalation. He looks confused but not angry and that fuels whatever fucked up mess is going in in Wedge’s head; he's known Luke for years, been sleeping with him him on and off for almost as long, but Luke just never seems to get people. He can read them, know what they're thinking, but they still confuse him and he can still be so naive about things. Maybe Wedge is getting too bitter, when he suggested leaving the celebrations and heading into the lower levels of the city he wanted a drink and a fuck and maybe a fight, too on edge and unbalanced after Luke had been so friendly, so close to Corran. Petty jealousy was stupid, but it's what prompts him to crash bloody lips against Luke's in some vicious mockery of a kiss.

Luke let's him, opens up when Wedge bites his already bloody lip (there's more jealousy there, that someone else made Luke bleed), grinds back against him.

“We shouldn't, here.” Luke pants when Wedge pulls away, and Wedge snorts.

“Too rough and dirty for a Jedi Knight?” he asks, and he knows he's being a childish bastard, but he doesn't care right now, kisses Luke again with too much teeth and far too much blood.

“No, but bodies.” he reminds Wedge.

“Dead?” Wedge asks, a little surprised.

“I don’t know, but lightsabres don't really have a stun setting.”

“Fuck,” Wedge leans his head against Luke's, doesn’t bite at his neck as he breathes deep. “Fine. Call it in, I'll find a speeder cab.”

Luke pulls him into another kiss, catches the split in his lip and pulls away, grinning, and Wedge wonders if this is the start of a slope to the dark side. They’re still only inches apart, and Wedge doesn’t really want to break this up, so when Luke goes for his comm link, it’s so easy to grab his hands and shove them against the wall again, actually pressing up against him, realising that Luke’s as hard as he is, and just going for it. He rolls his hips too hard and too fast, kissing Luke and tasting the shitty lomin ale he’d been drinking cut with blood before kissing down, smearing blood down Luke’s chin and down his neck where it’s blood and sweat he can taste as he licks and then sinks his teeth into soft skin at the base of his neck. Luke sucks in a desperate breath at that and Wedge looks up to see blue eyes dark in the bad light of the alley, and his mouth open, lips swollen and shining. It’s distracting enough that he doesn’t realise that Luke’s shifting his weight until he gets pushed away the few feet to the other side of the alley, so now his back is up against the wall, and Luke’s pressing him against it, one hand in his hair and the other pulling at his dress shirt, pulling it out of his trousers so he can get to skin.

Wedge is fairly sure the feel of cold, pitted duracrete against his back should be a turn off, but it’s not really registering and he pulls Luke’s hips up against his and bites down on Luke’s lip as he gasps into their kiss.

“Thought we were going to call this in,” Luke manages, while trying to get Wedge’s belt undone, and Wedge laughs.

“You want to stop?” he asks, punctuating his question with sharp nips against Luke’s neck.

He doesn’t get a proper response, he gets Luke undoing the fastenings on his trousers and shoving his hand down the front of his briefs, the wrong angle and too loose a grasp to be really good, but the pressure on his cock is a step in the right direction and he doesn’t try and hide the moan of pleasure that slips out. He gets with the program then and tries to return the favour, tries to get Luke’s trousers open, but he finds his hands pinned to the wall, briefly.

“Luke…” he virtually growls, rutting his hips against the Jedi, who kisses him again, but lets his hands go.

There’s a moment while Wedge fumbles Luke’s belt and fly open, trying not to get too caught up in the pressure of Luke’s hand on his cock, of Luke kissing him absolutely breathless, but then he finally brushes his fingers over the head of Luke’s cock and the gasp from the other man makes him grin into their kiss, teeth clacking together and another taste of blood washing over his tongue.

The angle is terrible for both of them; Wedge can barely get his hand around Luke’s cock, and Luke can’t actually manage all that much movement, but they’re both too keyed up, apparently, for that to really matter. Kisses become an exchange of breath and curses, the occasional scrape of teeth against lips. Luke’s hand slips on the cold duracrete behind them, and Wedge’s other hand hauls them closer together. It’s rough and it’s messy and if anyone had suggested this was how his evening was going to go, Wedge never would have believed them, but with Luke finding just the right angle, somehow, to get the speed and the friction just right, and Wedge is gone, swearing against Luke’s cheek as he comes, just managing to keep it together enough to pull Luke over the edge with him, and then they’re both laughing, hysteria almost reaching the surface as they stand there, hands and shirts covered in come, surrounded by blood and trash and Force knows what else.

Wedge comes back to himself first, carefully pulling his hand from Luke’s briefs and redressing the Jedi master to some semblance of propriety. Luke tried to return the favour, but apparently Wedge’s uniform trousers were too complicated to refasten, and Wedge ended up shoving Luke away to straighten himself out.

The tension in the air had passed somewhat, but Wedge could still feel the edge of adrenaline just wearing off, reminding him that they had just been in a fight, and he really wasn’t getting any younger.

“That speeder cab?” He suggests, because he wants a bed to carry on with this.

Luke is actually checking over the idiots who started the fight, seeing if they have any I.D. and presumably if they’re still alive, so Wedge calls in the fight and requests transport out, and hopes that he doesn’t look too debauched.

“Security Force will be here soon,” he says, leaning over Luke and pulling him back against his chest. “Leave them for the professionals.”

“And our ride home?” Luke asks, twisting out of Wedge’s grasp.

“Sorted.”

The prickle of jealousy is back again, especially since Luke has gone back to keeping his distance, always a step or so away, but then the security team arrives, and Luke manages to convince them that they need to let him and Wedge head home, that they will both give full statements in the morning, but really, it’s late and they would just like to be getting on their way. He’s not even putting the Force behind it, people will just do whatever the only Jedi Master in existence wants them to do, and so, thankfully, they’re in a speeder far sooner than Wedge expected, heading for where Luke is staying, because apparently that’s slightly less conspicuous than where the liberators of Coruscant are currently bunking.

The ride back, much like the alleyway, is tense, Wedge looking at Luke, who is battered and mucky, and then down at his hands, which are filthy, his knuckles split and bleeding. He’s still wound up, still angry, still irrationally jealous.

He’s still wondering if maybe he should just beg off and head back to base when they get to Luke’s rooms, rather than dragging Luke down into this pitiful mood, but Luke shoves him through the door and onto the couch, and he figures he hasn’t actually got anything left to lose at that point.


	2. Dreams are so Intoxicating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a couch is debased, Corran Horn is mildly insulted, and there are accidental feelings.

Luke’s couch is the kind of ridiculously plush thing that comes as standard for diplomatically important people, since he’s being housed in one of the old Imperial suites. It’s also white, and Wedge knows full well that his back was covered in grime that’s going to transfer. He also knows, the instant Luke climbs into his lap, that he doesn’t care.

“Don’t know what caused this Wedge,” Luke starts to say, cut off as Wedge reaches up to kiss him, it quickly turning into a mess of teeth and tongues and Wedge’s lip splitting open again.

They only pull apart when Wedge realises he can’t get Luke’s shirt off without pulling it over his head. He’d be embarrassed at the growl that leaves his throat as he sees the bruises on Luke’s side, but the way Luke is panting and grinding against him is short circuiting a lot of rational thinking.

He does consider that the white couch is probably a write off at this point.

There are a few quiet minutes of kissing and groping, clothes being haphazardly shed on the couch and thrown to the floor.

Wedge’s lip is still bleeding sluggishly and his ribs hurt where he got kicked or punched or something, but the feeling of Luke rubbing against him, murmuring the kind of filth that should not be coming from the lips of a Jedi Master are enough to make him ignore the pain. He fists Luke’s cock as Luke mouths at Wedge’s neck, biting down in retaliation and adding to the bruises Wedge has.

He keeps stroking Luke, fisting his other hand in his hair to pull him up into a kiss.

“Wanna fuck you,” he growls against Luke’s mouth and is inordinately pleased by the groan it elicits from Luke, who pulls back, lips swollen and eyes wide.

“Yes,” he pants, and is then pulling himself away from Wedge, who tries to protest.

“Lube,” Luke says, pressing a kiss against Wedge’s lips, the gentlest either of them have been all evening.

“Can you…” Wedge asks, trailing off as he watches concentration crease Luke’s brow, then leans forwards to suck on the mark he’d already left on his neck.

“Not if you keep doing that.” Luke laughs, and there’s a clunk as something hits a wall or the floor.

Wedge just carries on, “Practice,” he mutters, sucking harder and twisting his hand around Luke’s cock.

Luke closes his eyes again, stifling a moan and he does what Wedge refers to as his Jedi concentration face. “Fuck you,” he grates out, and Wedge keeps moving his hand, just the wrong side of too slow and too loose for it to really be good.

“Later.” Wedge promises.

Luke’s breath hitches and he grinds against Wedge, finally exacting revenge for the livid bruises on his neck.

Throwing his head back, giving Luke better access, Wedge opens his eyes to see the tube of lube floating over his head. With one hand he grabs it, with the other he pulls Luke into a vicious kiss, murmuring a mix of endearments and filth as he opens the tube and manages to get it all over the now definitely ruined couch.

It’s been far too long since they last did this; Coruscant, then Thyferra and Luke’s travels getting in the way, and even as caught up as they are, Luke winces and pulls away from Wedge when his fingers press against his entrance. Wedge doesn’t let up though, keeps the pressure constant until the first joint slips in, keeps pressing until it’s in up to the knuckle. Only then does he stop to look at Luke, whose eyes are closed and his cheeks flushed, lips tinged pink with blood and swollen from kissing. He pulls his hand back, takes the hand that’s holding Luke’s face and grabs the lube, coats more of his fingers and works one back into Luke, who starts to push back against him, a stuttered moan slipping out as Wedge slides a second finger in.

“Wedge…” Luke whines against Wedge’s neck, nipping at the skin. He fists his hand around both of their cocks and Wedge loses his rhythm for a moment, third finger skittering around the rim of Luke’s entrance rather than into him.

“Please…” Luke whines again and Wedge is desperately trying to keep it together enough to make sure this isn’t too painful, but as Luke pushes against him, it catches another blossoming bruise on his chest and he loses it. Pressing against Luke’s prostate, Wedge bites at his neck and doesn’t let up and Luke writhes against him, cock hard against his stomach and ass tight round his fingers.

“You want this?” He growls against Luke’s neck fucking him with his fingers and Luke clenches and whines another plea and that’s it for Wedge. His fingers are out and he’s slicking his cock up, letting Luke lift himself enough to position himself and then Wedge is slamming them together and he’s not sure which one of them is making the noises that he can hear, but it’s mostly being drowned out by the rushing of his blood in his ears and the feeling of Luke tight around him, pressed up against him.

He hides his face in the crook of Luke’s neck and pushes up as he pulls Luke down onto him, but it’s not enough. He doesn’t even have the Force and he knows, this isn’t what either of them want or need. It’s awkward, and probably wouldn’t have been possible if they weren’t both short and used to fitting in small spaces, but he manages to turn them, flipping Luke onto his back and pinning him to the couch, sliding back in with a groan and a gasp, and then he’s got the leverage to fuck Luke the way he wants. The way Luke wants, from the way his legs go round his hips and his hands dig into his shoulders.

“Mine,” he realises he’s almost growling against Luke’s neck, and he tries to stop, but it turns to incoherent groans as Luke grabs his hair and pulls, biting down his neck. He can taste blood in his mouth again, and his ears are ringing, and he shifts up slightly, pulling Luke with him and Luke howls, throwing his head back and coming after a few more quick thrusts. Wedge follows almost immediately after, too much to feel and Luke echoing his orgasm through the Force.

Even as they come down, kissing and touching each other, it’s not gentle, and Wedge realises that they’re even more bruised and bloody than they were to begin with. He’s sticking to Luke, but as he tries to pull away, Luke drags him back down, kissing him and pawing at him.

“Luke…” He’s not sure he can go for a third time in one evening, but the fingers rubbing behind his balls and across his entrance are giving him ideas. The fact that he can feel Luke, still hard underneath him is also keeping him interested. He gasps into the kiss and breaks it to catch his breath, not that he manages it as Luke nips against a bruise he’d left just minutes ago.

“You said I could.” He whispers, and Wedge can feel the grin against the side of his neck.

“Didn’t think you meant right away, fuck.”

There’s lube now, dripping on the small of his back, and Luke is awkwardly trying to finger him open, but the angle is awful.

“That the best you can do?” he teases. He regrets it almost immediately as Luke flips them with a lot more ease than he’d managed, although at least he didn’t almost also take the sofa with them, and then Luke has much easier access and is pushing one of Wedge’s legs up and out the way and leaning down and “Luke, fuck, no, fuck.” He wasn’t expecting Luke’s lips wrapping round his half hard cock and he jack knifes forwards, too much to cope with. “Luke, please.”

Luke just hums, apparently holding his breath as he sucks Wedge, the slightest scrape of teeth and no way he’s about to let up. Two fingers are working steadily into Wedge and he vaguely remembers something about feeling jealous that other people were getting to touch Luke, be friends with him, have other things in common with him, but he’s incredibly sure that he’s the only one Luke does this with, which is why he’s not too concerned about lacing his fingers into Luke’s short hair and holding him in place as he thrusts into his mouth. When Luke doesn’t push him away, he goes at it with a bit more pressure, and in return Luke does something with the fingers inside him and he almost sees stars.

Then there’s an awful empty and cold sensation as Luke pulls away, and Wedge tips his head forwards to watch him stroke himself, slicking himself up.

“C’mere,” he mumbles, pulling Luke down for a kiss that’s nasty and tastes of blood and come and is all teeth and tongue.

Luke doesn’t hold back as he fucks Wedge, head bowed down against Wedge’s and there’s no real noise in the room apart from the slap of skin against skin and the slightly unpleasant sound of lubricant squelching.

“Luke,” Wedge says for no real reason, nails digging into Luke’s back and it’s so good. He loses track of time, just lost in the way it feels, the pleasure pain of too much sex, too much stimulation, the pain of his bruises and cuts, the sharp sting of the leather sofa sticking to him.

It’s not perfect, they’re not moving in sync and Wedge knows he’s leaving scratches all over Luke. When Luke comes, he grips hard on Wedge’s leg, digging fingernails into the flesh and leaves Wedge close but not quite there, and not quite able to get his hand in to stroke himself off.

“C’mon,” he moans, finally getting a grip on his cock and stroking himself hard and fast as Luke breathes against him, softening cock twitching as it slips out of him, and Wedge comes, curling into himself.

“Fuck.” he whispers, hand unclenching from round his cock, his other hand splayed flat against Luke’s back.

“What was that all about?” Luke asks eventually, when their breathing is almost back to normal and Wedge is feeling unpleasantly cold where Luke isn’t blanketing him.

“Um,” he feels embarrassed to say now, but it’s Luke. “I was jealous because I thought you were going to want to spend more time with Corran now that you know he’s got all that Jedi history behind him and I didn’t want to lose you because I’m just.” He blurts out quickly, and then trails off because there’s no good end to that sentence that isn’t utterly pathetic. “And because all the shit at that party…”

Luke stills against him, “What?”

Wedge shakes his head and tries to dislodge Luke, “It’s nothing. I’m just tired, and the last few months have been hard to deal with.” The “without you” is left unsaid, but he has no doubt Luke will understand what he means.

“Wedge,” Luke keeps him on the couch, “Corran’s academically fascinating, but that’s work. He’s got a whole legacy to uncover, and the museum he found gives me so much more information to work with. But he’s not you.” He kisses Wedge and pushes up from the couch, giving Wedge an appreciative once over. “He’s definitely not you. Come on. Shower and then bed for cranky squadron commanders?” He says with a grin.

Wedge snorts with laughter and slaps Luke’s thigh. “We’ve ruined your furniture.”

Luke laughs and looks at the couch as Wedge gets up. There are stains from where their clothes had been covered in grime, there’s lubricant and come and blood smeared into the leather, and there’s a rip in one cushion. “I’m sure Leia will be able to deal with the scandal of her brother having sex on a couch. I’ll try and clean some of it up in the morning though.”

* * *

They shower together, and Luke insists on putting bacta on some of the worse looking cuts and scrapes that they both have before they slide into bed.

“I’m going to have to leave early,” Wedge says, spooned up behind Luke. 

“I know. I have a meeting with the senate anyway.” Luke breathes deep and calm. “Would this be easier if we were more public about us?” He asks. 

Wedge doesn’t really know what to say. He’s still not even sure what they are. “Do you really want all the extra press? Because I really don’t, not when I’m about to go off the grid.” 

Luke sighs, he’d forgotten that part of the party. “When you come back, we should maybe talk about it?” He suggests. 

“If you want.” Wedge agrees, pressing a kiss to the back of Luke’s shoulder. 

* * *

In the morning they don’t talk about maybe going public with their relationship. Luke kisses the bruises Wedge has across his ribs, the split on his lip that he refused bacta for, the livid ring of teeth marks around his neck and tells Wedge over and over that he loves him. In return, Wedge soothes more bacta over the cuts that Luke is sporting, and licks a path along the bite marks and nail scratches that he left the night before. It’s slow and tender and Wedge shakes apart in Luke’s hand, not quite able to bring himself to repeat the declaration of love.

When they dress, it’s still dark outside, Coruscant noisy and bustling as ever, but early enough that they can leave unobtrusively, Wedge wearing one of Luke’s shirts because his is a ruined mess, and because the collar is just high enough to hide the worst of the damage. They talk quietly between themselves as they head towards Wedge’s lodgings and the building Luke has to be at, the closeness of the two locations a nagging reminder for Wedge of how risky this is. And how risky what he’s about to do is.

When they part, they clap arms around each other and the easy physicality of pilots galaxy wide is a blessed thing, Wedge thinks. How else would he get away with it in public. Luke smiles and waves off Wedge’s wishes of good luck against the senate, and reminds Wedge that if they find themselves in need, he’ll come as soon as he is able.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remain kylux trash who can only write soft kylux and hard Luke/Wedge... I'm [over here still](http://anonblueberry.tumblr.com)
> 
> There is also a [teeny tiny cut scene from the end](http://http://anonymousblueberry.tumblr.com/post/154822210761/these-are-the-final-couple-of-paragraphs) that didn't make the final fic.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [over here on tumblr](http://anonymousblueberry.tumblr.com). Mostly I'm kylux trash, but apparently all I can write is Luke/Wedge.


End file.
